St. Isaac’s had never seemed so far away from Nevsky, even though it was less than a kilometer. By the time they got to the cathedral, she was panting and her leg was throbbing. In front of the cathedral on the banks of the Neva, Tatiana saw the shape of the statue of Peter the Great on his steed—the Bronze Horseman—a faint silhouette covered with a wooden form filled with canvas and sand. The Bronze Horseman was built by Catherine the Great as a tribute to Peter the Great for building Leningrad. Tonight nothing could be seen of the black horse or the majestic rider or his outstretched hand; just sandbags to protect the statue from the Germans.

Viktor said, “Tomorrow they’re going to impose a curfew on the whole city. No more evening excursions. So make this meeting with Lieutenant Belov count, cousin.”

They brought her inside the cavernous granite hall. She heard the light beating of the pendulum the Communists had placed inside the cathedral to turn the place of worship into a science museum.

The guard at the narrow opening to the staircase asked if Tatiana was clean.

“Well, I think so. She’s not carrying any bombs.”

“Did you search her?”

“Let me,” said Viktor. He ran his hands over her ribs, making Tatiana grimace. She felt an increasing anxiety. Being alone with three soldiers in a dark, ominous building, with Alexander high up and unable to hear her, made her fear things she could not imagine. It was an irrational fear, she told herself, as Viktor’s hands moved down to her hips. He held her a little tighter, and suddenly her fear got the better of her. “Maybe one of you can just,” she said, trying to step away, “let him know I’m here.” She took another breath. “You know what? I’ll just be getting back. You can tell him I stopped by.”

A voice coming down from the staircase said, “Let go of her.” It was Alexander, who appeared in the doorway with his rifle. Tatiana breathed immediate relief.

Viktor quickly let go. “Nothing to it, Lieutenant. We were just checking her for weapons. She says she is your cousin from—”

“Private!” Alexander came up close to Viktor, towering over him. “We have standards, Private, even in the Red Army. These standards do not allow us to menace young girls. Unless you want to face disciplinary action, I suggest you don’t let me catch you doing that again.” He put his hand on Tatiana’s back and said to his men, “You two, go back on the street where you belong. Corporal, you stay here until you’re relieved by Petrenko and Kapov.”

“Yes, sir,” the three soldiers said in unison. The corporal took his post by the doorway.

Alexander was trying not to smile. “It’s quite a hike up,” he said, his hand on her back, prodding her to the staircase. “Come on.” When they were around a column and not seen by anyone’s eyes, Alexander smiled broadly. “Tania…” he said, “I’m so happy you came to see me.”

Sighing, melting, warming, Tatiana said softly, “Me, too.”

“Did they scare you? They’re harmless,” he said, stroking her hair.

“If they’re so harmless, why did you come down?”

“I heard your voice and theirs. They’re harmless, but you sounded scared.” He was looking at her so…

“What?” Tatiana said shyly.

“Nothing.” Alexander crouched in front of her. “Go on. Grab my neck. Remember how to do this?”

“You’re going to carry me up two hundred stairs?”

“It’s the least I can do after you came all this way. Can you hold my weapon?”

Holding on to the rails, he propelled himself up with her hands around his neck. Hoping he wouldn’t notice, Tatiana silently kissed the back of his military tunic.

Alexander brought her into a glassed-in circular arcade with five columns that partially obstructed the view of the horizon and the sky. Setting her down, he took his rifle from her and propped it against the wall of the gold dome. “We have to go out on the balcony for a clearer view. Will you be all right?” He smiled. “We’re very high up. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“I’m not afraid of heights, no,” Tatiana said, looking up at him.

They walked out onto a narrow outdoor balcony deck circling the arcade above the rotunda. A short iron railing ran around the deck. The view from up here would have been quite striking, Tatiana thought, if only Leningrad weren’t prepared for war. All the lights were extinguished, and in the black of night she could not make out even the white airships floating silently in the dark sky. The air was cool and smelled of fresh water.

“What do you think? Nice up here?” Alexander said, coming up to her. Tatiana couldn’t move if she wanted to. She was between him and the railing.

“Mmm,” she said, peering into the night, afraid to look at him, afraid to let him see her heart. “What do you do here all by yourself, night in and night out?”

“Nothing. Sit on the floor. Smoke. Think.”

Alexander threaded his arms around her waist and closed his hands on her stomach, pressing her into him. She felt his lips at her neck whisper, “Oh, Tatia…”

How instant it was, desire. It was like a bomb exploding, fragmenting and igniting all her nerve endings.

Not desire.

Burning desire for Alexander.

Tatiana tried to move aside, but he held her too tightly. All she wanted was to sink to the ground. Why was that? Why, every time he touched her, did she want to lie down? “Shura, wait,” she said, not recognizing her own voice, which, thick with longing, said, Come here, come, come. Tatiana closed her eyes, muttering, “I don’t see any planes.”

“Me neither.”

“Are they coming?” She moaned softly.

“Yes. The placards are finally right. The enemy is at the gates.” He continued to kiss her under the wisps of her hair.

“Do you think there is any chance we could get out?”

“Not a chance. You’re trapped in the city.” His hot breath and his moist lips on her neck were making her shiver.

“How will it be?”

He didn’t answer.

“You said you wanted to talk to me…” Tatiana said hoarsely.

“Talk?” Alexander said, holding her stomach tight against him.

“Yes, talk… to me… about…” She couldn’t remember what. “Di-mitri?”

He pulled her blouse away and kissed her shoulder blade. “I like your blouse,” he whispered, his mouth on her skin.

“Stop it, Shura, please.”

“No,” he said, rubbing against her back. “I can’t stop.” He breathed into her hair. “Any more than I can stop breathing.”

Alexander’s hands moved to rest below her breasts. Her healing ribs hurt slightly and exquisitely from his touch, and Tatiana couldn’t help herself, she moaned. Squeezing her tighter, he turned her around to him, his mouth on her throat and whispered, “No, you can’t make a sound. Everything carries downstairs. You can’t let them hear you.”

“Then take your hands off me,” Tatiana whispered back. “Or cover my mouth.”

“I’ll cover your mouth, all right,” he said, kissing her fervidly.

After three seconds Tatiana was ready to pass out. “Shura,” she moaned, grasping on to him. “God, you need to stop. How do we stop?” The pulling in her stomach was fierce.

“We don’t.”

“We do.”

“We don’t,” he repeated, his lips on her.

“I don’t mean… I mean, this? How do we ever get relief from this? I can’t go through my days like this, thinking of you. How do we get relief?”

Alexander pulled back from her lips. “The only thing I want in my whole life,” he whispered hotly, “is to show you how we get relief, Tania.” His hands held her to him in a vise.

Tatiana remembered Marina’s words. You are just a conquest to a soldier. And despite herself, despite the unflappable certainty in the things she believed to be true, despite the shining moment with Alexander at the top of the sacred cathedral up in the Leningrad sky, Tatiana’s worst got the better of her. Not trusting her own instincts, scared and doubting, she pushed Alexander away.